


Laughable

by Afrozentundra2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:48:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24179974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Afrozentundra2/pseuds/Afrozentundra2
Summary: It wasn't like Harry went outside looking to die that day. It wasn't like Paul had been planning to kill a kid that day eaither. Harry could honestly laugh at his predicament. He lived through all of this crap, just to be killed by a muggles death trap on wheels. Life really was a bitch.
Kudos: 2





	Laughable

There wasn't even that much blood. There were bumps and bruises sure. There were scrapes that had small beads of scarlet liquid, friction from the pavement against bare skin. But other than that there was no blood. It was almost embarrassing in a way. The amazing boy-who-lived was now the boy-who-died. There wasn't even much blood to show for it.

He had lived through a Basilisk's venomous bite, the KILLING CURSE, and dementors. But here he was-watching a man dry heave over his body. It was surprisingly easy to accept his early demise. Harry always knew it was coming. He should perhaps be thankful to the man. Harry got to die fast and without any chance to ponder if he was doing the best thing for others ( not that he really got a choice in the matter). If moldy shorts had gotten to him first, Harry knew it would have been a long drawn out ordeal. At least this way he had no time to try and change his fate. It was done. It was all over. So in a way Harry was glad the hysterical man killed him.

That being said he was still angry. Angry that he could no longer help. He could do nothing because as stated earlier it was already over. There was no more fighting for Harry. No more talking to his friends and his family. He couldn't have a family of his own anymore. His family line was gone with him, and any chance to live in a world of Peace was gone for him. Harry was thankful and angry. Harry felt so many things all at once. But what he felt the most was the irony.

He spent his entire life in fear of something. It was Uncle Vernon as a child and the entirety of the magical world as a teenager. Voldemort, the evil he was had killed his family. From his father's parents, to his mum, and his dad. He was the thing to fear. Voldemort was the killer here, not a young man with his twins in a metal box of death. But here he was. Dead as could be out side of number 4 Privet Drive. His birthday walk intruded upon by his looming demise. It as utterly hysterical in a fate really fucking hates me kind of way.

Harry watched as the medics pulled the man up. He was no older than twenty. Twenty-four at best. He was a young father and husband. But that didn't matter now. Not when all Harry knew was that this man was his killer. They had never seen each other before. Not until he unceremoniously slammed his car into Harry's defenceless body. The man-Paul- couldn't do anything anyway. With Harry's neck at that angle, you didn't need to be a doctor to know the outcome. Paul's wife was clammy as well. Her hands were sweating as she continuously wiped her hands over her jeans. Her eyes stayed locked on Harry's body. She looked at his face and deep into his eyes. The cracked glasses a few feet away making his green eyes all the more noticeable. 

Paul has pacing back a fourth, his fingers carding through his red hair. Perhaps in an attempt to wipe away the memories that later a mere meter away from him. He stared at Harry's body as the medics stated time of death. His last meal of birthday cake making a reappearance. Again, Ironically his time of death was '1:07, July 31st'. 

Harry knew Sirius had eyes and ears everywhere. He just didn't realize how fast he could find out something if he wanted to. So when he saw Sirius trying to kill Paul in the Hospitals lobby, he felt more bad for Paul. The man was backed into a corner sobbing. Useless apologies falling off his tounge. Harry couldn't feel angry at this man. Evil people don't cry. He was the best person to know. But he also was devastated.He would never get to have Sirius as a father figure now. Not in life anyway. Remus held back his godfather. All of the werewolves strength needed. He was angry as well but would want the facts before jumping to a reaction. He learned from his experience with James and Peter after all.

Once Sirius has calmed down and resorted to silent sobs Remus sat across from Paul. Harry watched as he told Paul about him. From his parents, to his friends, to his new life with Sirius. Harry would never know if he was trying to be comforting. But as Remus kept going and Paul kept blanching, Harry thought that Remus was getting his revenge. But with cruel mind games instead. Remus always did know the mind and spirit rather well after all.

Seeing your own funeral was actually quite interesting Harry decided. He had three and while he wasn't surprised he was quite positive only one was actually necessary. Sirius was at all three. He was in public for the first time in years as a free man. Peter had been caught earlier that year and confessed. It had been thrilling. Because July thirty first was Harry's last day in the muggle world. He was going to live with Sirius the next morning. The original date of only three days before had been moved. Sirius had wanted to surprise Harry with something. Sirius blamed him self. He hated being anywhere but drinking himself into a stouper.

Harry laughed and laughed at the Wizard funeral. It was grand and full of gold. Red was everywhere and People Harry had never seen even in passing were sobbing as if they were mourning their first born. It was grand in all the wrong ways and Harry glared as muggleborns were harassed and yelled at. Tension rose to an all time high as Harry watched former muggle supporters change political sides. It was utter madness. He wanted to laugh at their idiocy but it would make no difference so he didn't bother.

The best funeral was the private one. Harry watched as they lowered his body between his parents. This was a quiet service. Sniffles and tears were abound but Harry knew them all. He had laughed and cried with them. They had had overwhelming joy, and then overwhelming sadness together. Harry hurt knowing he was the cause of their sadness. But he was also glad. Harry was glad that they cried for him. Not because they lost a figure head and a pawn for the upcoming war. No,it was because they would never see each other again in this life time. Harry never realized how long a lifetime truly was until now.

The last funeral was a damn joke. If Harry could he would shout and stomp his feet he would. As it was he screamed at his aunt for tricking the press into thinking she was a good person. As it was He kept sneaking glances at Paul and his wife Eliza. The couple were wedged in the back and kept their heads down. It was a circus and Harry, Sirius, and Remus knew it. His friends came as well. God Harry wanted a hug so much. They were quiet and took the press in stride. Until the speaches. They layed the Dursley's dirty laundry out for all to see. The closet under the stairs. The chores that bordered an abuse. The neglect and verbal abuse. It was all out in the open. Petunia pinched her face and left silently. Paul looked green again and Sirius ended his verbal lashing by stating that he refused to let Harry's life and hardships be forced into the shadows for someone else's benifit. Harry wanted to cry to badly that day.He had never felt so loved before.

Harry wished Sirius could see him but he died in a place with no magic. He was basically a muggle ghost. He was forced to watch as the life worn man spiralled. He drank and damaged his already frail body. His soul damaged beyond repair. He only took two years. His own wand doing what no one and nothing else had managed. Harry frowned as Paul stared at Remus. The tired man looking frail and weak. He was leaning heavily on his bike. He refused to drive again. Harry would be kidding himself if he said he wasn't a little happy the man was suffering. But a larger part felt pitty. Especially when he learned of Sirius death. The broken look was horrible. Sirius Set a hand on Harry's shoulder. He gently guided him away from the grave. No point in dwelling on it now

When Remus and Tonks died two years later. Harry was there to greet them. There were many tears shed and Harry got to meet the newborn that perished with his parents. It was a terrible outcome but they did it. Voldemort was gone. It was over. And even when Harry was gone his family never forgot once. They still visted him every week without fail until they too joined them in the land of the dead. 

Paul Had died like Sirius. His tea full of poison and his heart full of regret. Harry never meet his ghost. But he wished he did. While Harry was still a bit bitter he had learned to move on. Dwelling over it won't revive you. He had learned That over the years. That and Harry had a feeling more was at play there. After all fate loves to make her pawns suffer.

Fate was such a bitch


End file.
